


Even More Tumblr Requests

by clusband



Category: Hiveswap
Genre: Angst, More relationships to come, Other, prompt collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2020-02-09 09:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clusband/pseuds/clusband
Summary: MORE requests from my tumblr, cleaned up and posted here. Feel free to suggest your own prompts if you'd like!





	1. Lanque x Reader- Huddling under an awning to stay out of the rain

Lanque finds you, improbably, while you’re running some of the most boring errands of your life. **  
**

“So you just happened to run into me at Hive Depot?” you tease him. He has no response ready for you, pretending to pick at some lint on his shirt and looking away with a pout.

You pull him with you, making your way towards the omniscuttlebus station- you hadn’t expected to see him today, but, in truth, you would have taken any excuse to hang out. The fact that  _he_  was seeking _you_ out for a change made your heart flutter, and your whole body lit up with some kind of smug joy.

“Wait,” you hold your arms out to him, pretending like he was about to say something scathing and you're interrupting him. It’s the least you can do- you know how he is. He doesn’t like to feel like the butt of a joke. “I would love to guess why you’re here,” you push at his boundaries a little bit, testing, and- success! He doesn’t pull away.

“The smell of the paint aisle? The cute shirtless blue bloods who chop up the wood for you? Ooh- maybe for the thrill of being so close to carpenter drones? I hear the concupiscent drones lack a certain thrill…” You can’t help but smile at him as you elbow him in the ribs- you love these moments where he lets you tease him. You love when he doesn’t run away from you.

“You made that up about the blue bloods,” he smiles at you, rubbing at his jaw as if to distract from his blushing at the mention of drones. But he doesn't back away from your challenge. Bingo- you were right, he really has never set foot in a hive depot before. You tell him as such, and gossip a bit about the blue bloods. You may have left out the part that they were fully clothed, but hey, you needed some reason to draw him in. Some excitement to make it seem like your day wasn’t nearly as dull as it was.

Before he can open his mouth in retort, a drop of rain hits him right on the cheek with a faint fizz. Another drops pelts you on the arm, leaving an angry, red mark behind. Too late, you remember- the rain on this planet is acidic. You hiss in pain, looking for something to hide under.

Lanque removes his jacket and brings you under his arm, shielding your comparatively thinner skin from the onslaught of the rain. Despite the threat of the weather, you feel safe here. With his arm around you, he pulls you into him, close enough to hear the beating of his heart. His whole body is tilted towards you, doing his best to shield every inch of your skin. You feel like you want to kiss him, but you can’t reach his mouth. You notice that he is pointedly not looking at you anyway, and the way he hides his blush is almost prodigious. But there’s no hiding the green flush of his ears, and with his hair slicked down with rain water, his ears are sticking out pretty prominently. He hustles you forward with an impatient jog towards the omniscuttlebus station, his hand moving from under your ribs to the small of your back.

It’s not a moment too soon- the minute Lanque removes his jacket from over your head, the telltale sign of a rain storm fills your ears- the hard patter of heavy drops hitting the roof of alcove you’ve found yourself in, the sounds of playful screaming and laughter as higher castes play briefly in the rain before seeking shelter.

You let out a tense breath- rainstorms used to be relaxing. As Lanque does his best to dry out his clothes, ringing out his shirt and shaking his hand through his hair, you walk around the station. You buy some grub cakes from a convenience stand- they have Lanque’s favorite, with the chocolate covered crickets. The dulcet tones of an accordion draw your attention deeper into the station, towards the dark stairs that lead to the omniscuttlebus loading bay. The screeching sound of the cars coming to a stop rings out all around you, the cut of the wind rustling and grabbing at your clothes from the stairwell. You feel drawn towards it, there’s got to be something down there. You want to listen to the busker.

Before you can descend, Lanque finds you, a concerned hand on your shoulder.

“It’s amazing that you’ve managed to survive so long on this planet,” he teases, “considering how much trouble you find yourself in.”

The busker? You guess you did fall into a bit of a trance. You give him your best sheepish look.

“Good thing I have you to look after me,” you say, looping your arm through his and letting him lead you away from the stairs. You hand him his grubcake, and he takes it from you gratefully. You eat in silence, walking towards the entrance again and looking out towards the road.

The rain hasn’t slowed, but the cover of the clouds has given way a bit. The whole word is awash in gray and pink and orange, like a sunset. You hadn’t considered that Alternia has its own version of a sun shower. Or, moon shower, you guess.

You listen- a few blocks away, where the city is more populated, you hear the rushing of cars and the honking of horns as traffic picks up. Trolls must be rushing home. This feels like home, with the sounds of life all around you and the light of the moons shining despite the acid pouring down. This feels like home with Lanque beside you.

His hand has found the small of your back again. He’s looking forward, his profile sharp and serious as he studies the view, but you see that his attention is on you, with his ears listening, facing you, and his body tilted, ever so slightly, to catch glimpses of you.

“You don’t have to make excuses, you know,” you say, so softly that you wonder if he can even hear you over the sounds of the city. “I’m always glad to spend time with you.”

He doesn’t respond, but you weren’t looking for an answer. Not verbally, anyway. He takes another bite of his grubcake as if to distract from the softening of his features. The softening of his shoulders. The beauty of his whole being. You love him. Your heart sings with it, your limbs go fuzzy with the feeling.

But what can you do? He’s all sea and no storm today. Nothing to betray the cold, dark depths that may lie beneath. Perhaps you can find a way to wade along the shallows. 

You place your hand opposite his jaw, encouraging him to face you. And he looks so smug, like he must know exactly what he’s done to you. You kiss him once, softly on the corner of his mouth, then once more, chastely against his lips. When you pull away, his eyes are closed, his expression blissful. He almost looks like he’s sleeping. You lay your head on his shoulder, and his hand finds its way to your hair, smoothing it and soothing at you. And you watch the rain together.


	2. Mallek x Reader- prompt in summary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mallek & snow being shoved down the back of your coat + the relief of fatalistic recklessness

The first snowfall of the sweep brings frost to your windows and Mallek to your doorstep. **  
**

He’s all high energy and smiles as you greet him, wrapping a black scarf with the cerulean zigzag of his scorist sign around the back of your neck. With his scarf around your neck, he pulls you forward into him with a fond kiss to your forehead as he catches you around your waist, holding you steady as you find your balance. You’re laughing as you struggle to shove your feet into boots of your own, catching your hands in his jacket as he helps to wrap your coat around you snugly.

He leads you into his limo- _what adventure awaits us today,_  you ask him with a fond, teasing smile, making note of the heavy snow boots he’s wearing and his thick, leather gloves. But he makes a zipper across the lips motion, sly through his eyes with a sort of delighted excitement hiding not to far behind that. You let him keep his secrets, for now, and lean back to enjoy the scenery passing by beside you. You feel the ascent deep in your gut as you drive up a steep cliff, the snow capped evergreens surrounding you quietly and without warning like the fingers of some long forgotten god.

You step out together in front of a chain link fence. As the snow falls lightly around you, you’re struck by how eerie it is here. You aren’t sure if its how the blanket of snow muffles the sounds of the forest, surrounding you in the soft susurrus of the snowfall, or if it’s the giant ‘Do Not Enter (On Threat Of Death)’ sign that Mallek is ripping noisily off the fence.

He catches you looking, and you must look pretty unsure because he nudges your shoulder playfully with his as the sign clatters to his feet.

“No worries robo-buddy- I scoped this place out. No drones, no traps,” and with that, he’s off. He starts by testing the integrity of the fence, leaning his weight against it with one foot. When it doesn’t budge, he grabs onto the fence with both hands and starts to climb. The thrill of adrenaline finally hits you- Mallek is here, you know you’re safe with him. You can’t wait to see what he has planned.

Once he reaches the top of the fence, straddling the top bar, he reaches down to help you up. His gloved hand is startlingly warm in yours- you wonder if he has those little hand-warmer packs hidden inside them. He heaves you up as you brace a foot against the central bar to sort of hop yourself over, but you both put a little too much strength behind your combined effort. You make your way to the top of the fence, then you both make your way over the fence as he topples off.

And now, you’re grateful for the heavy blanket of snow. It cushions your landing even as your breath leaves you in a rush. And Mallek, made of tougher stuff, is laughing loudly beside you. You grab a handful of snow and shove it down the back of his hoodie in retaliation and he startles with a little shout. He pelts you with a snowball- he’s quick- before you can fully stand to avoid his attack.

You get lost in this game with him, finding the perfect trees to hide behind and looking for the high ground. Mallek seems to be corralling you to some place specific, though, and you don’t notice until halfway to your victory, one of your hits knocking him off balance and sending him skittering on a patch of ice. The snow is letting up around you, and, as you help him up, he points behind you. You almost didn’t notice- there’s a mound of snow that, upon closer inspection, is definitely an entrance to a cave. As you turn to look, he pelts you on the back of your head with a final snowball, knocking you forward.

“I win,” he says, brushing past you.

* * *

As you descend deeper into the depths together, it dawns on you just how much Mallek scoped this out for the two of you. In fact, ‘scoped out’ isn’t quite accurate- he’s prepared this place. There are electric lanterns and fairy lights hanging from the ceiling along the path Mallek is leading you, and the path is clear of any debris or loose stones that might have tripped you.

The further into the cave you go, the more humid it gets. Soon enough, you notice steam rising up around the two of you. It should be spooky, but you feel safe knowing he’s been here before. Knowing that he set this all up. For you. The thought brings a smile to your face. He’s quite a bit ahead of you now, looking like something from a dream in the dim, misty light.

Finally, he comes to a halt in front of you. It’s much brighter here in the central chamber, and most of the mist is just chilling out by your feet instead of obscuring your vision. As your eyes adjust to the sudden light, everything clicks into place. Taking up most of the northern half of the chamber is a natural hot spring- that explains the mist. To the west is a giant hole carved out of the cliff face- that explains the light. You move closer to look out upon the scenery. Not far from you, you can see mountains rising up in the distance, each capped with snowy pines and the sparkle of light reflecting from the moons and off of the snow. You can just barely make out the city, the tiny pinpricks of light from the lights of the buildings startling you with their insignificance.

Mallek takes his boots off without a word before he starts peeling the rest of his layers off excitedly. The thought dawns on you that maybe you should join him. So you do, letting out a little shout of excitement as you race forward, stumbling a little bit over your half removed pants. You grab onto his hand as you race forward, approaching the springs from a tall ledge above the deepest part of them. You don’t look back as you pull him forward with you, a force of nature in your excitement. You hear his thrilled laughter behind you as you jump, together, into the water. He pulls you close to him once your momentum leaves you, the two of you deep in the water. He presses his lips against yours in the closest approximation of a kiss he can give you as you tangle your arms around each other. And you don’t need the air around you to know that he’s left you breathless.


	3. Lanque x MSPA Reader- prompt in summary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can stare at the stars all you want, but you won’t find what you’re looking for up there. The world is down here.” + Lanque

i.

You didn’t expect to be spending your date with Lanque cleaning up after about 30 grubs.

“Grab him!” he shouts as he readjusts a surly cerulean under his arm, and really he could be pointing to any of them. He’s got an arm full of grubs, ranging from burgandy to blue, and four more are making their way towards you.

You panic, scrambling to pick up the nearest one- a little bronze blood, small for their caste. They immediately start crying- which, for troll grubs, sounds like a fan about to catch fire, a high pitched whine and wheeze.

“No, look-” he gathers all of the grubs he’s holding under one arm and tries, in vain, to grab at one purple grub climbing up Bronya’s husktop. You watch in slow motion as the monitor falls forward, and the grub clings to it for dear life, chittering up a storm, a miniature version of a cackle. Just like his adult form might be, he’s been mischievous this entire time, knocking over glasses and tearing up Bronya’s nice throw pillows.

Miraculously, Lanque does manage to grab the grub, but not before the monitor crashes to the ground with a loud “splat.” Gross, are computers on this planet supposed to be so… gooey?

“Worry about that later,” Lanque seems to have finally corralled the rest of the grubs into their kiddy pool of sopor slime. “Bronya doesn’t have  _In which an offworlder disturbs the friend group of_ -” You cut him off before he can spend the next fifteen minutes reciting the title to you. You pick up a sleepy psionic grub and place them with the bronzeblood, then pass them both to Lanque who instinctively holds them close to his chest, looking around for any other escapees.

You were hoping that maybe Bronya had the troll version of Mean Girls. You didn’t expect to wake up all of the grubs in the nursery by just turning on the lights. Lanque sighs, depositing the grubs back in the slime alongside the others.

You watch him roll up his sleeves, distracted by the muscles in his forearms, the long, straight lines of him as he turns his back on you to kneel in front of Bronya’s now demolished husktop. But only for a moment.

“You know, the point of sneaking into someone’s room is, generally, to leave no trace of your presence,” he gives you a side-eye, looking at you from over his shoulder, but you know he’s smiling. In fact, sneaking into her room was your idea! Lanque was delighted by your mischievious side. Although you would hardly qualify this as ‘sneaking in’- you’d asked Bronya’s permission to look for the movie once Lanque made mention of it. But you don’t plan on telling him that.

“I can fix this, but you’re going to help,” he stands up, brushing imaginary dust off of his slacks. “Remember the waterfall in the center of the caverns?” You nod.

“Go get me some water,” he states this bluntly, walking out of the room for, presumably, something to fix her husktop with.

So you do.

* * *

The central chamber is just as beautiful as you remember it- all bio-luminescent fungi and algae, shimmering white and blue and pink, the subtle, multi-colored fairy lights, and the dew from the waterfall sparkling with their light. You take a breath, letting yourself relax for a moment. Bronya’s going to be furious with you. Or worse: disappointed. You sigh, moving towards the water.

As you approach, you hear the splash of some animal- a frog, if you had to guess- jump in to the water. You watch the ripples of the waves as he swims away, and you wonder where he comes up, what’s on the other side. So close to the outside, yet so deep down. You look up through the hole where the water is falling from, surrounded by stalactites like the teeth of a monster from a child’s story. You can hear the wind winding its way through the prairie grasses, soft and subtle like thoughts you forget upon waking. Up through the mist, the stars are shining, subtle through the light of the moons but resplendent with their own light. Your stomach lurches, struck suddenly by the unfamiliar- there’s no north star, no blue sky. Not here, not on Alternia.

Your thoughts are broken by Lanque’s hand on your shoulder, so gentle you think you must be dreaming.

“You’re going to have to hide better than that to get out of this,” he smirks at you, not unkindly. He passes you a broom, and he passes you his hand.

The mist has collected on your skin as you stood, staring, in front of the waterfall. You take the hem of your shirt and wipe it all away before letting him lead you away. After all, there’s so much to be done, and so little time.

ii

The suns leave Alternia so hot by day that it’s easy to forget that, just like a desert on earth, it can be freezing during some nights.

Lanque’s jacket is warm and cozy around you as you make your way through the park. There aren’t many other trolls around, probably because it’s fucking freezing. But he’s distant from you anyway, jerking away from the soft brush of your knuckles against the back of his hand, keeping literal space between you. To say it hurts is an understatement.

The final straw is when he jams his hand so quickly in his pocket that he breaks one of his nails with a frustrated shout.

“ _Damn_  it!” he yells this more loudly than you’d ever thought he’d yell anything, clutching his finger in his other hand like he broke a bone. But he notices you flinch away from him, and he sighs, rubbing his brow.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him. Lanque gets moody, but you’ve never seen him… mad, not like this.

You study him, with his broken nail and his clenched teeth. Not mad, no. You see the way his eyebrows draw together, the panic in his eyes. You see the tension he was holding in his neck, in his shoulders. He’s scared.

“What’s going on?” you ask him. With your hand on his shoulder, you lead him to sit with you on the wet marble of the fountain. You half expect to be rejected again, but you aren’t- he resigns himself to joining you, not even sparing a complaint for how wet and cold the marble is. The resignation worries you more than his anger ever will.

You can be patient- you know he’ll probably come around. But this sucks, it really sucks, not knowing what to do.

“This is the ugliest fucking fountain I’ve ever seen,” he says with a dark chuckle. You look behind you, and he’s right. It’s a clown, spitting fire for some reason? She’s juggling fish (and, inexplicably, the water is flowing out of their mouths- it looks disgusting) and her breasts are so huge that it’s almost obscene. You splutter out a laugh and, miraculously, he joins you.

As your laughter dies down, he turns to face you, honesty written in every line of his features.

“I got my assignment,” he starts, and a chill runs through you that has nothing to do with the cold. “I’m getting cloistered.” His voice cracks over the last word, and though he doesn’t let himself cry, it’s enough. You lean into him, letting him take the lead, and he sort of just plops into you with no thought or form. You feel his breath against your neck, surprisingly even. You don’t even know what to start thinking about to get your thoughts racing, so you look up.

The motion of your head intrigues him, and he looks up too. You stargaze together, for one moment, then two. You wish there were answers written here, among the stars and between the planets, but all you see is space.

Lanque breaks the silence first.

“Did you know every bloodcaste has its own name for the constellations?” His voice is so soft, so wistful. It feels like a stone digging divots in your heart. “Rusties like to name them after virtues- strength and cunning and all that- and clowns have their religious figures written up there.”

You hum at him, drawing his head under your jaw.

“But jades have nothing. No stories of the stars. No stories of our caste.” He sighs. “But at least I recognize them. Is it hard for you, too? Living under a sky whose stars have no name?”

You turn to look at him. Although you see the emotional devastation he holds close in keeping- he’s really a wreck, and you don’t have the time to help him heal the way you’d like- he looks at peace, staring at the sky. You wonder what the fuck the cloister is.

“I never knew the names of the stars on my planet anyway,” you say, touching him on the jaw to get him to face you. Once he turns, you give him your best, hopeful smile, hoping that the tears in your eyes mean something to him.

“You can stare at the stars all you want, but you won’t find what you’re looking for up there,” you kiss him softly. “The world is down here.” you whisper against his lips.

And it’s not going to be good, and it’s not going to be right, but the future will happen and you want to be by his side to see it through.

iii.

The wind beckons at you from the mouth of the cave. The sky. The stars. One moon. You’d almost forgotten what it looked like out here. It’s nothing like Alternia

This planet is small, and it runs cool. You run your fingers over your lips, contemplating. You look up- though the stars are unfamiliar, this feeling is not. You’re forgetting something.

“Lanque!” you hear your name called, with urgency, from inside the cave. Anger wells up in you- just five more minutes. Five more sweeps. Then you’ll go.

But looking at the stars, that feeling from before comes back to you. It fills your lungs. It leaves with your breath. It’s nothing like a scream. It feels like you lost your flame, your fight. What are you still doing here? You hate it here, how you just go along with things. You aren’t yourself anymore.

Another jadeblood rushes to meet you at the mouth of the cave, laughing and grabbing you by the shoulder, exhilarated by your presence and by the prospect of privacy.

And when he presses his lips against yours, it’s nothing like a kiss.


	4. Marvus/MSPA Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: Marvus prompt, noticing he has dimples?

It never suits him; he’s not the coy type, is all. 

“What’s with that?” you ask him one day.

“What’s with what, buddy?” There he goes with him damn hand again. 

“What are you hiding back there?” You lean into him and grab his hand, pulling it away from his mouth. 

“Ain’t hiding shizz,” he puts on his Marvus Xoloto smile, sitting up straighter and folding his hands over the head of his cane. Damn, you missed your chance. Not that that’s going to stop you.

“Oh really? You never hide your smile on stage.”

Something shifts in his expression, simultaneously amused and a little uncomfortable. Jackpot! It’s back on the table.

“Man, you tryna ruin the magic or sumn? Last thing I need is some someone thinkin’ I’m cute. Shizz…” He trails off as you catch his meaning. 

“Marvus,” you put on your best serious face, turn on your best stern voice. “I already think you’re cute.”

He looks shocked- like really, genuinely shocked- at this.

“Say whaaat?” He lets out a laugh as he grabs you by the cheeks. He pinches and pulls your cheeks, contorting your face as he continues. “Nah boo, not me. I’m handsome and sexy and I got some wicked presence an alla dat, but I ain’t cute. You hate to see it.”

You try to contradict him, but it’s hard to get any speech out as he messes with your expression. 

“Say it,” he says as he suppresses a very real smile.

“‘oo coot,” you slur through the assault on your face. You puff out your cheeks.

“Nuh-uh! Say sumn else!” He presses your face between his palms and you blow raspberries at him. Finally- _finally!_ \- he does laugh. And holy fucking shit.

He throws his head back wildly, opening his mouth wide to let out as much laughter as possible.

And he has, honest to whatever messiah is listening, dimples. Is that really all he was hiding?

“No way!” you join him in laughter, despite the stiff soreness left behind on your face. You can’t help it: you reach over to him and press your thumbs into the divots. “ _No way!_ You really are cute!” He reaches up to grab your hand. Here’s another secret you get to keep: he rubs his thumb tenderly in the divot of your wrist.

“My best-kept secret, on my messiahs,” you try not to stare, but, really, who can blame you? “What, you finna snitch?”

“Who am I going to tell? Post it on my chittr? Shout it from the rooftops?”

“Try it. See what happens.” He smiles at you again, his hands resting on his cane.

But you know this is a secret you want to keep for yourself.


End file.
